Black Ghosts
by AlphaOmega92
Summary: The story of a Chaos warband fighting to destroy the corrupt Imperium and its False God-Emperor, as well as survive in-fighting amongst the other Traitor Legions. Rated T for violence and language.
1. Prologue

**Alright, this is my first Warhammer 40k fanfic, so please read, review, and enjoy. I do not own Warhammer 40k, but the Black Ghosts are my creation. **

The 115th Malduran Mechanized Infantry were being annihilated.

The Imperial Guard Regiment had been sent to the fringe world of Laqueum as part of an Imperial Battlefleet to combat secessionists that had seized several hives and manufactorium centers. The guardsmen that filled its ranks had considered themselves lucky that they had been ordered to chase the retreating secessionist bands fleeing into the hills, rather than the deadly urban operation of hive-clearing. But as soon as they entered the densely-wooded footlands, they had come under attack.

Lieutenant Thomas Nevic cringed as the bright spear of a lascannon bolt cut through the side of an Eighty-sixer transport truck. The vehicle halted, its drive axle cut by the powerful beam of energy. Guardsmen huddled in the back of the truck kicked down the rear gate, eager to escape the disabled vehicle. Many were cut down as soon as their boots hit the dirt, slain by the enemy that approached from all sides.

Ducking inside his command Chimera, he barked to the vox-officer. "Hurry, tell the lead vehicles to advance. Get us out of this ambush!" The armored carriers at the fore of the convoy powered forward, their treads kicking up dust as they propelled the tanks. They had barely advanced ten meteres before the lead Chimera was caught in a plume of fire and earth, its burning hulk propelled into the air by the explosion.

"They've mined the road!" bawled some tanker over the vox-net. "Quick, full reverse!" Nevic ordered, aware of the steadily growing sounds of battle outside. The enemy was growing closer. The column rumbled backwards, halted almost at once with a second jarring explosion. "Behind us too?" the Lieutenant cried. Sweat pooling under his arms, Thomas rose into the cupola, almost soiling himself at the sight.

The enemy was on them now. Not overly-tattooed men in secessionist robes, but armored giants. Each one stood over eight feet tall, encased in black plate trimmed blood red. Crimson eyes shone from their devilish helms, grinning skulls sculpted on their armor leering as they approached. Lieutenant Nevic uttered one word, barely above a whisper.

"Astartes." _The enemy were Astartes. _

Howling as they sprinted into the guardsmen's midst, their cries amplified by helm-mounted vox speakers, the traitor space marines decimated the Imperial soldiers. The opening moments of the attack had thrown the Maldurans into complete disarray, allowing the Astartes to approach practically unopposed. Sergeants roared at the top of their lungs, ordering the guardsmen into firing ranks to mass the power of their lasguns. But it was too little too late, and the traitor marine's war plate easily defeated the Imperial's lasbolts.

A squad of soldiers in front of Nevic's Chimera were cut down by the Astartes' bolter, the massive slugs ripping through flak armor with ease and detonating in the soft flesh beneath. Soon the air was filled with the sound of roaring chainblades as the traitor marines closed into melee distance, scything down the Imperials like a farmer cutting stalks of wheat. The turret of Nevic's chimera traversed in an attempt to turn its multi-laser on the enemy, but the Astartes were too close to bring the heavy weapon to bear.

The whole vehicle shook as a traitor marine with a horned-helmet leapt atop the vehicle. Rather than try to fight the giant, Nevic ducked inside the turret. A questing gauntlet followed him, clamping on his collar with a vice-grip and ripping him from the tank. Thomas cried as his arm caught the lip of the turret, dislocating his shoulder as the Astartes tore him free. The lieutenant wriggled like a infant in the giant's hold, but trying to free himself would be as impossible as trying to lift his chimera by himself. Nevic continued to squirm, screaming himself hoarse, eyes closed to the painful death he was sure was only moments away. It was moments before he realized two things.

One: he was still alive, and Two: the sounds of battle had stopped.

Nevic opened his eyes, looking up at the Astartes that still held him. The traitor marine had made no moves to end his life. In fact, he was a motionless as a statue. Thomas turned to survey the massacre around him. He knew what he would see; the broken, butchered bodies of his men around the burning husks of their vehicles. Nevic was pleasantly surprised when he found none of that.

The battle had torn through his regiment, many men lay dead or dying on the dusty ground, but many men had survived, shaken and bloodied but otherwise unharmed. Many of their vehicles had escaped unscathed, others only suffering from crippling damage that could be repaired in a night's work. At their current levels, they were at perhaps three-fourths strength…

Many of the Astartes surrounding them had lowered their weapons, checking the Imperial vehicles and corralling the surviving guardsmen. Nevic felt himself fall to the ground as the traitor marine released him. The lieutenant picked himself up and cradled his dislocated shoulder, joining the rest of his men. Suddenly it dawned on him.

_They didn't want to kill us. They just wanted our equipment._

His thoughts were interrupted as the traitor Astartes around them stopped their work, kneeling as a pack of figures stepped through the throng of marines. Nevic and several other guardsmen around him gasped as their eyes fell upon them.

Six hulking figures stood before the Imperials. Their armor was colored in the same black and red as the other Astartes, but their armor was so massive in made the regular power-armored giants surrounding them look puny by comparison. The five rear marines stood silently, hands curled around weapons so huge it was impossible for a normal man to carry them. Their helms were crafted into visages of savage beasts, spikes adorning their shoulder-guards.

The lead giant's armor was incredibly ornate, gilded runes decorating the polished black surface. Two horns erupted from the sides of the helm, curling downwards into a pair of savage-looking tusks. A long billowing cloak flowed from the figure's shoulders, the color of pure darkness. Thomas shivered uncontrollably as his looked into the mantle's folds…it seemed as if the cloak feed on the light around it, dimming the space around it. Lieutenant Nevic shifted his gaze to the warrior's weapons, an intricately-crafted combi-bolter and a sword almost as long as the Astartes was tall, its blade almost as black as its armor.

The lead figure spoke, his tenebrous voice hissing from the vox-speakers on its helm.

"You have been spared in order to be given the chance to correct your lives of erroneous service to the False Emperor." The Astartes announced, extending an open palm. "Serve under the Black Ghosts, under me, Lord Eclipse, and fight against the dying Imperium of Mankind under the will of our Father Gregory the Highest."

Silence fell upon the guardsmen. Lieutenant Nevic looked upon his men, seeing the confusion and unease in their eyes. After living lives bathing in the Emperor's light, after serving their entire lives defending Holy Terra from the Heretic and the Xenos, they were being asked to forsake everything they had ever known. What other option was there?

"Don't listen to anything this traitor says!" A gruff voice spat. "All he spies is lies and blasphemy!" Thomas turned to see Sergant Colford, the veteran guardsman's eyes burning with divine fury. Several soldiers around him nodded their ascent, inspired by his boldness.

Lord Eclipse sighed, sounded almost alien coming from the vox-speakers of his helm. "There's always one…" He said, raising his combi-bolter and firing once. Both barrels fired simultaneously, two bolts ripping into Colford's head, popping it like a melon. The resulting detonations splashed the guardsmen around him in gore and bodily fluids, a grisly show of what would happen to those who remained loyal to the Imperium.

_So that's the other option. _Thomas thought.

The traitor marine lord gazed over the hushed guardsmen, reading the resignation in their faces. They all valued their lives over their precious Emperor. Lord Eclipse smiled. It was getting easier and easier to find help these days.

"You have made the right choice." The Astartes said with a nod. "Father watches over all of us, and…with his guidance, we will crush the Imperium with our might!"

The space marines surrounding them started chanting. "All hail Father Gregory! All hail Lord Eclipse." Nevic felt sweat drip down his back as he wondered what the hell he had just gotten himself into.

**So here's the prologue to my first Warhammer 40k fanfiction, the Black Ghosts. I really don't know how I'm going to proceed with the story yet, so I'm probably be giving some background on the Warband and the characters. Let me know what you think.**


	2. Homecoming: Part 1

**Alright, here's the first part of the next installment of Black Ghosts. This is where I'll give a little background on Lord Eclipse and his warband as they make their way back to the Eye of Terror.**

Laquem's rebel forces retreated deep into the mountains, pursuing Imperial forces hot on their heels. The forces of the Corpse-Emperor were superior in both number and fighting experience, but the tough terrain slowed their advance. The rebels knew the highlands well, guerrilla attacks led by rear-guard units left by the insurrectionists slowing the Imperials' pace to a crawl.

Using their brief respite to the fullest, the insurrectionists dug in on a plateau high in the mountains. A natural fortress, its sides were surrounded by mountains with peaks that dug into the grey clouds above, its only entrance a narrow pass. The rebels reinforced this with block gabions filled with rock and earth, hastily-crafted walls and guard towers. Spools of razor-wire and chain-link fence surrounded the perimeter and choked the pass, machine gun emplacements and artillery dugouts turning it into a veritable killzone. Whatever vehicles the rebels had been able to bring with them in their retreat idled nosily, built into the plateau's defenses with earthen bunkers. Red-coated soldiers dug lines of firing trenches and planted mines, their work hurried. The Imperials would be on them within the hour.

An armored figure stepped from a tent in the center of the compound, watching the proceeding with half-interest. His black armor was swathed in red robes and adorned with blasphemous sigils that seemed to squirm and morph in the fading light. Two horns crested a gilded helm, an eerie light projecting from the crimson lenses. An ornate bolt pistol hung on its thigh plating, its barrel the maw of a fearsome beast, while a bladed staff rested in the figure's right hand.

"Lord Geithan," a weak voice whispered behind the figure. The sorcerer turned to find a man in red robes, tattoos running across his hairless scalp.

"Hmm?" he purred, his voice like velvet.

"Our fortifications are almost complete, and our scouts have sighted the forces of the Corpse-Emperor. They will be within artillery range soon." As if to accentuate the prophet's words the front lines of guns boomed, hurtling high-explosive shells into the night air.

"Excellent…" the sorcerer began.

Out of the corner of his eye, Geithan spotted one of his acolytes, a mortal whose robes covered black carapace armor adorned with human bone. The disciple eyes met the sorcerer's, and he nodded shallowly.

Geithan returned the gesture and returned to the prophet, placing his gauntleted hands on the smaller man's shoulders. The mortal winced as his frail body braced the heavy weight of the ceramite plating and servo-bundles underneath.

"T'Hun, it is time for me to depart."

The prophet started, looking up at the sorcerer with wide eyes. "But my lord," he stammered. "it is the eve of our great battle with the forces of the False Emperor. If we needed your strength at any time, it would be now."

Geithan looked up for a moment, gesturing to the waiting disciple. The man bowed and rushed off to collect the others. Satisfied, he took T'Hun under his arm and started for the landing pad at the rear of the encampment.

"T'Hun, I have taught you all that I know. You and your forces stand valiantly against the corrupt armies of Terra with the blessings of the Chaos Gods. The Warp echoes with premonitions of your victory here. You are an able commander, and you have led your men well to reach this point."

A confused look passed over the prophet's face. "But sire, you have commanded our forces. Without your brilliant tactical mind, we would have never reached this plateau!"

The sorcerer shook his head. "Remember T'Hun, you did these things." His voice whisped from his vox speakers like mist, the words laced with eerie magics. "I was merely your advisor, your guide and channel to convey with the powers of the Warp." T'Hun's fear evaporated as the spell took effect, replaced by a righteous fire.

"You are right, my lord!" The prophet cried. "We will cast the servants of the False Emperor back, and plant the seeds of a new empire in the name of Chaos Gods!"

Amusement played behind Geithan's eyes, his mouth twisting into a smirk. Controlling the mind was his specialty, and nothing pleased him more than drawing loyal followers away from the False Emperor's light. But T'Hun and his followers had been almost too easy. He had been on Laquem scarcely four months before he had "converted" enough souls to start a rebellion in the hives.

The sorcerer looked up, spotting the flare of plasma engines in the quickly darkening sky. The blocky shape of a Thunderhawk gunship, painted in the black and red of the Black Ghosts, grew in the distance, the shriek of its engines howling over the sounds of gunfire and explosions around them. Vectoring its jets downward and deploying its landing skids, the craft touching down softly on the hard-packed dirt.

Geithan stepped forward, his retinue falling into place behind him, as the troop ramp slid down on hydraulic pistons. He noticed the Thunderhawk's name, _Gregory's Blessing, _scrawled in gold on the craft's side. _Lord Eclipse's personal gunship. _The sorcerer mused. _I should feel special._

The Thunderhawk's engines whined as the pilot lifted off, the bulky craft rising into the air. As the ramp ascended, Geithan yelled out to the ever-shrinking form of Prophet T'Hun.

"Fight well, and keep faith! The fire of the gods will rain from the heavens to assure your victory!"

He chuckled as he stepped into the troop compartment and strapped himself into one of the restraint thrones. Even if T'Hun had paid attention to Geithan's tactics, he was no general. Before the rebellion, the mortal had been a manufactorium foreman in one of the munitions plants. It was by sheer luck that T'Hun had been the first mortal to fall prey to his powers, becoming the new prophet in Laquem's insurrection.

The sorcerer turned his attention to the remote pict-viewer mounted on the wall to his left. The cameras mounted outside the craft flared as a bright lance of light pierced the clouds, blasting the encampment on the plateau to dust. Geithan smiled; he hadn't lied about the fire of the Gods, just whose fire it was. He hummed a wordless tune as he watched the Imperial bombardment atomize the rebel forces.

_Let the Imperials have this rock. We've already got what we came for. _


	3. Homecoming: Part 2

**Alright, here's the second part to Homecoming. Remember, read, review, and enjoy!**

Acceleration pressed Geithan back into his restraint throne. The Thunderhawk roared like a beast as it tore at the heavens, its body quaking as the planet itself tried to pull the gunship back to the surface.

For a moment, it seemed to the sorcerer that Laquem would win the struggle with the Thunderhawk's plasma thrusters. But the craft in which he ascended belonged to his lord, and was maintained personally by Eclipse's tech priests. The astartes pilot, with millennia of flight experience, guided them effortlessly through Laquem's upper atmosphere, and soon they had pierced into the void.

The forces acting on them subsided as Laquem's fell away beneath them, replaced by the gunship's artificial gravity. _Gregory's Blessing _powered through the nothingness, it's colouring making it almost invisible in the blackness of the void.

Surely the Imperials auspexes had picked them up by now, Geithan thought. But the Malduran battlefleet was almost on the other side of the planet. They would be gone by the time the forces of the False Emperor could attempt to pursue.

_Gregory's Blessing _passed behind Laquem's moon, its transmitters sending waves into the blackness of the void. The signals returned, bouncing off a large shape hiding in the shadows of the satellite.

A large shape, similarly hidden in the darkness, appeared before them. The space marine battle barge, a spacefaring battleship used by the Adeptus Astartes, drifting in orbit around the moon, a fat bellied transport ship trailing in its wake. It was a truly massive weapon of destruction, its armored hull bristling with weaponry.

_The Lunos Spear, _capital ship of Lord Eclipse.

* * *

The Thunderhawk pulled up alongside the battle barge, banking expertly into the warship's docking bay. With a screech of dying turbines the craft settled on its landing skids, the hatches hissing as they depressurized. Geithan unstrapped himself from his harness and left the troop compartment, descending the forward ramp. Already servitors and robed techpriests swarmed the ship, running diagnostics and speaking prayers to the vessel's machine spirit. The sorcerer stepped past the menials and made his way out of the hangar, the rest of his retinue shuffling silently back to their quarters on the _Spear. _

The cry of engines behind him made Geithan give pause. He turned just as a second Thunderhawk set down, an octet of space marines thudding down the exit ramp. Each wore a stylized omega on their right shoulder pauldron, the inverse of the Ultramarines symbol they had carried ages before. The lead figure's armor was intricately crafted, lengths of barbed chain wrapping around his forearms. A glowing plasma pistol and an idle chainsword were attached to his thigh plating.

Geithan bowed slightly before the Fraternity, the elite of the Black Ghosts. The sorcerer turned to the lead marine and offered his hand.

"Janus," he said to the champion. "hunt well?"

"Well enough." Janus replied, taking the shaking the offered hand. "I trust your time on the surface was well spent?"

"Absolutely," the sorcerer purred.

"And what was your "Prophet of the New Age's" former occupation this time?"

"Munitorium foreman."

Janus let out a harsh laugh. "You do excellent work sorcerer. Though my favorite is still the sanitation enigeer…"

Geithan's lips turned upwards in a fond smile, remembering the garbage collector he had chosen to be his loudspeaker on a planet in the Segmentum Tempestus. The man had been extremely lucky, and his rebellion had carried on extremely well until the las-bolt from a Cadian sniper ended his life.

"Eclipse will be expecting me soon." Geithan mused. "Care to accompany me to the bridge?"

"Let us stop by the labs first. I must drop this off for Automus…" Janus said, gesturing to the mute figure of an enginseer carried between two of his men.

"Then we're off." Cried the sorcerer, leading the procession merrily, once again taking up his whistled tune.

* * *

Geithan, Janus, and the rest of the Fraternity strode through the corridors of the _Lunos Spear_. Serfs and crewmen stepped aside to allow them passage, bowing as the space marines passed. Several other Astartes walked the halls, dipping their helms slightly in salute to their brothers.

As they continued on, the sorcerer remarked at the state of Lord Eclipse's vessel. Since the Horus Heresy, the Traitor Legions had declined in grandeur, along with their ships. Many of the Chaos spacecraft Geithan had been aboard were in various states of disrepair, mere shadows of their former selves, with entire sections of the ship disused and abandoned. The corridors of the _Lunos Spear, _however, were alive with activity. Serfs and menials bustled throughout every inch of the ship, servicing weapons and polishing the war plate of their masters. The halls were decorated with bright red tapestries adorned with the warband's symbol, a black spectre with crimson eyes.

Soon they neared the lair of Automus, Master of the Forge of the Black Ghosts. The cavernous camber was filled with several machines in various states of construction, ranging from bolters to mobile auspexes. Immense logic stacks lined the walls, current playing across their cases as they transmitted data into the noosphere.

Reb robed techpriests bent over their projects, mechadendrites flexing like mechanical tentacles. They hardly noticed as Geithan and the Fraternity entered, dumping the unconscious engineer onto an empty table.

"Automus," Janus called. "special delivery."

The techmarine turned on his dias in the center of the chamber. His armor was painted in the colors of the warband, but a silver stripe ran down the center of his war plate, a sign of his old allegiance to the Legion of Perturabo. The armor he wore was visibly larger than regular power armor, bulging with custom augmetics and servo limbs. Automus' entire head was bionic, glittering lenses shining from a mask of burnished metal. The Master of the Forge spoke, his voice blaring monotonically from speakers mounted in his armor.

"I thank you Janus. He will be useful to me. Geithan, you designated point is on the bridge. We are to engage in warp jump in approximately…"

"I'm headed there as we speak." The sorcerer assured, eyes drifting to the convulsing figure behind Automus. "I thought Eclipse ordered you to stop making test subjects out of your techmarines?"

The Asartes was on his knees, eyes wide in rapturous pleasure. His body had grown mishappen and bulky, his skin seeming to meld with his war plate, microscopic circuitry appearing beneath the epidermis. All symptoms of the Obliterator virus, which turned fused men with machines, creating something not quite either.

"He volunteered for the procedure." Automus explained. "As I was saying, you are essential personnel required in warp jumps and…"

"I'm going." The sorcerer grumbled, exiting the chamber with Janus and the Fraternity on his heels.

"That tech-mage and I just do not get along." Geithan complained to Janus. "I'm tons of fun, and he's just no fun at all…"

"Whatever you say, sorcerer."

* * *

The bridge was a bustle of activity. Some stations were manned by serfs, others by former Imperial Navy officers, some commanded by servitors hard-wired directly into the bridge's electronics. The armaglass screen showed the blackness of the void, the shape of Laquem's moon slowing disappearing as the _Lunos Spear _broke from its orbit.

Raised on the command dias, Lord Eclipse watched the proceedings with half-interest from his throne. The five massive shapes of his elite guard, the Midnight Fenrir, ringed the dias, immobile as statues.

Janus and his men stepped before their lord, falling to one knee in reverence.

"Champion of Gregory, it warms my soul to see you again. I assume you had a pleasant hunt." Eclipse spoke, deep voice emitting from his vox-speakers.

"I travel with Father's blessing my lord." Janus returned. "Our mission was most successful."

Lord Eclipse nodded, dismissing him. Janus bowed and rose to his feet, taking places with his men around the bridge. Noticing Geithan, the traitor lord beckoned him closer.

"Geithan, you have done well. Your ruse has allowed us to take many resources. Father will be most pleased with us."

The magician bowed deeply. "You honor me, Lord Eclipse."

"Now take the helm." Eclipse commanded. "It is time we take our leave of this system. The Imperials seem to have caught our scent."

"Aye, lord." Geithan replied, taking his place at the navigation station. The sorcerer flung his arms with, daemonic sparks playing around his armored fingertips. The light behind his lenses intensified as he channeled the powers of the warp, preparing the vessel for travel through the Immaterium.

"Where to, my lord?" the sorcerer asked, his voice tensed slightly with strain.

"To the Eye, Geithan." Lord Eclipse said, a smile playing across his face. "We're headed home."


	4. Homecoming: Part 3

**Alright, here's the final section of Homecoming. Read, review and enjoy!**

* * *

The _Lunos Spear _and her trailing vessel lurched as they slid into the Warp, cresting waves of physic energy as they travelled at speeds incomprehensible in the material realm. The world outside the armaglass screen was a swirling mix of colored vapors, glittering and flashing as they made and unmade themselves in rapid succession. Though the void shields were running at full capacity, all aboard could hear a low wailing dirge-song as the spirit of the ship communed with the daemons of the Immaterium.

Geithan stood on his dias, eyes flashing with crimson light. The sorcerer moved his hands like a conductor, maneuvering the ship through the pathways only those truly in-tune with the Warp could fathom.

When they emerged from the Warp, no one knew how much time they had spent in the otherworld. The ships chronometers had moved forward two standard weeks, but within the Immaterium the passage of time was a fickle thing. This was especially true of their destination, where the laws of the physical world clashed with the ever-changing laws of the Warp.

At the edge of the Segmentum Obscurus there was a tear in the universe, a place where the material and immaterial worlds had collided in a tremendous explosion of warp energy. The massive wound in the fabric of reality, millennia old, still leaked the presence of the Immaterium into real space, distort the laws of physics, and even time itself.

The Eye of Terror, exempt from both the laws of the Imperium and the physical world, was home to pirates, heretics, and traitors.

The _Lunos Spear _pushed deeper into the Eye, darting amongst a field of asteroids. Rocks and meteorites choked the space around the rift, remnants of planets shattered long ago by the Eye's explosive creation. Interspersed amongst them were the derelict wrecks of killed vessels, casualties of the Eternal War that had raged since the Horus Heresy.

Warning signals blared as the short-range auspex registered engine thrusters among the asteroids. Two vessels, the sleek forms of Astartes strike cruisers, emerged from their hiding places behind large meteors and settled into attack vectors, forward lances glowing with energy.

Lord Eclipse rested his head on his fist, watching the auspex signatures grow closer on the screens at his command throne.

"Open a channel with the _Phoenix _and the _Phantom." _He spoke to the vox-officer.

The main screen blinked into life, the pict-feeds of two black-clad Astartes appearing before them. Tobias Stricht and Damien Meuller, captains of the cruisers _Glorious Phoenix _and the _Phantom of the Abyss, _bowed before their lord.

"I commend your enthusiasm, brothers, but the charging of the lances was a bit much." Eclipse admonished.

Both Astartes flashed wolfish smiles and bowed their heads once more.

"Apologies lord," Stricht said. "just following your orders."

"We get few chances to put energy to the weapons systems." Meuller added. "Welcome back."

The two guard vessels returned to their posts, allowing the _Lunos Spear _to drift deeper into the rubble field. As they passed several meteors followed their path, weapons platforms hidden in their depths tracking the barges movement. Some of the larger asteroids showed minute signs of habitation, walkways trailing between them like webbing.

As the _Lunos Spear _neared the largest asteroid, one of the bridge officers sent a signal transmission, a string of binary code, to the massive rock. The rocky surface along its equator peeled backwards, exposing the thick metal of bulkhead doors. Slowly, the hangar doors of the Hallow, asteroid-fortress of the Black Ghosts, parted, revealing a gargantuan space filled with other spacefaring vessels. Their vessel slid into the bay, docking with a pair of massive restraint-arms.

Eclipse rose from his throne, taking in a deep breath and exhaling, mist seeping from his the vox-grille on his helm. The Iron Fenrir took their assigned places behind their liege.

"Aah, it's good to be home."

* * *

Air hissed into the airlock as the pressure between the _Lunos Spear _and the Hallow equalized. The massive hatch slid open, Lord Eclipse stomped forward, his Terminator honor guard lumbering at his heels. A group of mortals waited on the gangway, bowing in the presence of the Astartes warlord. Former Imperial stormtroopers, their carapace armor was painted black and adorned with red runes and bits of human bone. The lead figure, an elderly officer with a wide scar running down from his left eye, removed his cap and held it to his chest.

"Welcome back, my lord." He spoke.

"It is good to be back, Fraer." Eclipse replied, stepping past the mortals. Traitor general Oswald Fraer, commander of the Black Ghosts mortal armies and the Hallow, walked in pace with his lord, almost having to jog to keep up with the Astarte's wide stride. "Anything interesting happen while I was out?"

The traitor general shook his head. "The debris field has been quiet as usual. Expansion projects are underway and proceeding as planned. The work crews will have several asteroids hollowed and connected to the main station in a few months."

Eclipse nodded and stared out of the viewport. The transport ship had docked next to the _Spear,_ disgorging the spoils of the Black Ghosts latest venture. Serfs and techpriests unloaded tanks and other armored vehicles, loader servitors carrying massive crates of ammunition and promethium drums. A line of captured guardsmen marched from the vessel into the depths of the station, urged along by cultist-soldiers wielding electro-cudgels.

"I'm retiring to my chambers, I am not to be disturbed." The traitor marine said.

"Of course, my lord." Fraer bowed again, taking his retinue and leaving for the command centre.

* * *

Eclipse stepped into his chamber, the doors sliding closed behind him with a muted hiss. His quarters, like those of most Astartes, was spartan, containing only a sleeping mat and a rack for holding his weapons and armor. The only anomaly was a small shrine set in the corner of the room, consisting of a crimson tapestry emblazoned with an eight-pointed star surrounded black candles.

The door hissed open once more, Automus stepping into the cell. Working his articulated servo-limbs across Eclipse's armor, the techmarine disengaged the locks, chanting softly to the machine spirit residing in exoskeleton of plasteel and ceramite. Piece by piece, the former Iron Warrior removed the terminator war plate, re-assembling it on the stand.

"I will return for maintenance momentarily." The techmarine droned, exiting the room.

"Thank you, old friend." Eclipse replied softly.

"It is my pleasure."

Naked save for a loincloth bound around his waist, the astartes lord kneeled before the altar, lighting the candles with a small igniter. The flame clung to the wicks was black, illuminating the room in an eerie light. Smoke drifted up to the tapestry, curling in on itself to form a ghastly visage.

"Ah, my son." A voice, like icy water, said, sounding from everywhere and nowhere at once. "You have returned."

"Yes, my father." Eclipse replied, bowing his head and closing his eyes. "Our raid was very successful; more men and machines to wage war in your name against the False Emperor."

"You are truly my favored son, Draenor. Your deeds please me and the Gods of the Warp greatly. You are well on your way to Daemonhood. Soon you and I will reign, father and son, on Zareneth, with a legion of god-born astartes to make the stars weep. While the other legions waste away, we grow stronger and more unified."

"None will be able to stand against us." Lord Eclipse stated. The candles began to flicker, the sheet of smoke receding into nothingness.

"My son, you will do great things…the Warp echoes with your feats to come. You must make a journey to Zaraneth soon, I have not seen you with my own eyes for some time."

The flames died out, leaving the chamber in total darkness. Eclipse rose to his feet and stepped over to his sleeping mat, descending into the depths of slumber.

* * *

**And so ends the first section of Black Ghosts! I hoped you guys liked it. If you guys have any any ideas for future stories, or just want to say hello, drop me a PM.**


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